


Theatre Class

by MediumSizedOlive



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Drama Class, Gay, Homophobia, Homosexual, Jason Lakes - Freeform, Jasons a douchebag, M/M, Other, Theatre class, homophobic, innerhomophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14672916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediumSizedOlive/pseuds/MediumSizedOlive
Summary: To Jason Lakes, pretty much everything sucked. School was boring, everyone was annoying except for maybe like, 6 people, his English teacher had a bone to pick with him every day and to top it all off, he was put in the stupid theatre class which was nothing more than a lame fuck-fest of faggots, drama dorks, and freaks. Not to mention how his reputation with his friends and classmates would suffer thanks to this. It was already hard enough with all of this going on, but underneath all his aggression and shitty attitude, there was no way he could let anyone know. To be honest, he himself wasn't even too sure if he was or not... but there was absolutely no fucking way he could let anyone ever find out. No one would talk to him, no one would even look at him, even if they did- it was wrong! And disgusting! And... and... goddamnit!... Caleb Shen looked really hot in those skinny jeans...





	1. One

Jason sloppily turned the combination to his locker a few times to reset it before carefully turning it to the right numbers. 40, 15, and then slowly rolling it to a steady stop under the tick of number nine. Yanking the handle towards himself the locker jiggled but refused to budge. 

“Cmon…” he muttered to himself and readjusted the backpack that was slowly starting to fall down his one arm. Hitching it over his shoulder again he used both hands to take hold of the lock and give it a few more good tugs only to result in the locker remaining closed. “Damn thing always jams...”

Once again he gave the combination a few rotations before the numbers and pulled. The locker stuck for a second before jerking free, a squeak sounding as Jason opened it all the way.

Crouching down, he shrugged his bag off, placing it in front of him and unzipped the largest section revealing journals, a few binders, a pencil pouch and random scraps of looseleaf paper crumpled by the clutter. Old pencil skins, some spare change, eraser shavings and gum wrappers were settled on the bottom of his bag, crushed from the weight of everything else in it. 

His bag, like his sweatshirt, was black with silver zippers and a few pockets on the side. The hallway he was hunched in was generally silent, minus the rustling of him going through his stuff.

He didn’t mind the quiet. One of his friends hated it cause it made him uncomfortable. But Jason thought it was nice. You could actually think without it being too loud or distracting. A nice moment in time where you could be mute and content. 

Well, unless it was an awkward silence, in which he found himself experiencing way more times than the peaceful kind.

“Jace!” a loud obnoxious voice suddenly echoed down the hall, shattering the short lived moment of a nice quiet morning. It interrupted his thoughts and the shrillness painfully penetrated his ears like a drill.

He recognized that voice. There was only one person in the world who called him ‘Jace’. “No… please no…” he thought, glancing over. “It’s too early for this…”

Much to his horror he saw Erika Kim. Arguably one of the, “Sweetest girls in the world,” as he heard a classmate describe her, but to him? No. No not at all. 

Yea sure, she was alright. She had silky black hair that swayed in her ponytail and pale skin that held no pimples. He would be able to look past her bad breath and rather unappealing B.O. if it wasn’t for the fact that she managed to annoy the everloving shit out of him faster than anyone he could remember (and that said something).

Clenching his teeth and forcing a smile he greeted the girl that was briskly walking towards him with such happiness and excitement shining in her eyes it made him wonder if she was on drugs. 

“You’re late again!” she skidded to a halt right next to him and leaned over, her wide smile still ever present. Her pony tail swayed over her left shoulder and her green hoodie was two times her petite size.

“Yea, I guess so,” he replied, tearing his gaze away and placing his focus back on his bag. And don’t stand so close to me, he added silently. 

“You’re always late to first period.”

“Yup,” he started sliding a few journals out and tossing them in his locker. They landed with a heavy thud. “I guess so.” he repeated.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been late,” she wiped her nose on her sleeve and much to Jason’s distaste, left a trail of snot that darkened the green fabric. “Not once.”

Trying to act like hadn’t just seen that, he gave an unenthusiastic hum in response and zipped his backpack closed all while thinking about the disgusting nature of what he just witnessed. Get a tissue for Christ’s sake.

At some point through their high school career Erika decided that he was one of her favorite people. (“Probably cause I’m one of the few dipshits that still talks to her…” Jason thought). 

She somewhat reminded him of a leech, minus the bloodsucking. Every time she saw him she’d come running full of excitement and with a million different things to talk about and stick to him. A crowded hallway, a silent classroom, the gym- didn’t matter. Even just maintaining eye contact with her for just a moment longer than an average glance gave her the go ahead to start a loud conversation anywhere at anytime. 

It was just one of the many things Jason couldn’t stand. 

“So,” he heard her continue. “How are you doing today?” 

“Fine,” he said curtly. Same as everyday when you ask me. He didn’t bother returning the question. 

Rising up, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and closed his locker. “Mk, well I need to get to class now, so-”

“Oh yeah me too!” Erika interrupted, making a spark of irritation flame in the pit of Jason’s stomach. He hated being interrupted. By anyone. “I’m only out here cause I have to use the bathroom. I don’t usually need to go this early in the morning but for some reason today I do.”

Jason’s face twitched with grimace. The recurring thought that ran through his head every time she gave way too much information was always, How the hell does she expect me to respond to that? And as always, he answered with the same awkward reply, “Yea… um, ok.”

She stepped aside as he walked past her. “I’ll see you later!” She beamed even wider when he flashed a quick empty smile and said, “Kay, thanks.” And strode down the hallway away from her, dropping the fake grin.

Fucking annoying… He thought, irritation still itching in his gut. He could feel her eyes holding their gaze on his back, even as he put more distance between them. It wasn’t until he turned the corner and chanced a bothered look back that he saw her shift directions and skip the rest of the way down the hallway. She began to hum (way out of tune he noticed) to herself some weird song he knew that probably no one in the world had ever heard before.

He watched her for a split second longer and continued on his way, re-hitching his bag on his shoulder again. 

Ya, what she had said was mostly true, he was late to first period a lot... 

Jason frowned slightly, “But it’s not ALL the time.” He grumbled to himself. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the lockers that lined both sides of the aisle. The floor was a pale yellow tone with flecks of brown splattered in a different direction each tile. 

The muffled voices of loud teachers could be heard every few feet or so from the classrooms behind the walls. Being nosy, he glanced in the glass windows installed in the doors for a few seconds as he kept going.

Every single kid all had the same bored expression while looking at the teacher with tired eyes. A few kids were resting their heads down on their desks while others leaned on their fists or open palms. 

A couple kids caught his gaze he as walked by. Most of them didn’t do anything with the short amount of time that their eyes locked but others that Jason knew threw their head up in a “Sup?” motion that he returned. 

As he passed the fourth door, the first person who caught his gaze made him grin and stop for a second outside of the classroom. Matthew sat front and center, bending over in his desk and laying his chin on his arms. He wore a baggy grey sweatshirt with the hood drawn over his head. The teacher’s voice droned on like a slug.

He looks tired, Jason thought, taking note of the prominent bags under his friend’s eyes.

Noticing movement in the corner of his eye, Matt smirked and raised his head up when seeing Jason paused outside the room. He glanced at the teacher for a moment to make sure he wasn't being watched before discreetly slipping his arm under his desk and flashing Jason his middle finger. Jason snickered and returned the gesture. 

A few more students looked over and noticed him standing there. A couple laughed silently while watching Jason and Matthew send signals back and forth. A girl sitting next to Matt glanced over, distracted by the whispers of chuckles and straightened in her desk, frowning slightly when catching sight of Jason’s middle finger.

Looking again to make sure the teacher wasn’t noticing, Matt brought his pointer and middle finger up to his lips before spreading them open and flicking his tongue in between the area. The girl next to him stared with disgust before looking away. 

“Aw dude,” Jason mouthed, cringing and snickering at the same time. “Fucking gross!”

Matthew shrugged and winked, taking his hand away from his mouth and folding his arms. Now leaning back in the desk, he tossed his head back letting his hood fall off. His black hair, which usually swept off to the side of his forehead, looked like a rumpled mess on top of his head. 

Jesus he looks horrible. After soaking in his friends rugged appearance for a single split second Jason whispered, “I have to go to class,” and threw his hand up in a lazy wave. Matt nodded and returned the gesture, laughing under his breath when Jason flashed him one last sight of his middle finger before moving out of the way of the door.


	2. Two

“Turn to chapter four of your textbooks please and begin reading pages 32 to 41 .”

A small amount of people groaned before every kid in the classroom bent over and took hold of the fat book laying under their chairs. Hauling them up, the large hardcovers thudded on the desktops like weights. 

Jason watched from outside the room, his gaze flicking to each classmate before landing on his teacher who stood at the front of the room, his hands patiently tied behind his back.

The teacher’s gaze moved swiftly student to student, waiting for all of them to flip to the right page. 

Jason exhaled through his nose before taking hold of the chilled door handle and turning it. The door budged, making a clicking noise before creaking loudly as he opened it further. Immediately people looked over, resting their eyes on him.

One thing that never got old was how unsettling it was to have a whole room of people looking at you. He tried to glance around the room in a nonchalant manner as he slowly closed the door behind him. A few people went back to their work but most of them kept their eyes glued to him as he walked forward, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. 

The teacher turned as Jason approached.

“... Do you have a late pass?” Mr. Leroy’s voice was low as he unfolded his hands from behind his back.

What do you think? “No,” Jason replied, biting back his response. Mr. Leroy sighed loudly, drawing back the attention of the students who had turned away. Their stares made it feel like fingers were ghosting all over Jason’s back. 

“Alright,” the teacher exhaled and gave Jason an expression that mocked disappointment.

Don’t give me that look, you know I come in late, Jason thought bitterly. 

“I’ll enter it in the system that you were tardy.”

Great, go ahead, Jason thought, gritting his teeth. One of the few things that was more annoying than Erika Smidheizer was when teachers tried to act like they really cared whether you were in class or not. You get paid either way. Mr. Leroy’s eyes squinted slightly like he could hear his thoughts but said nothing. Being this close gave Jason a quick chance to notice more details in his teacher’s face that he hadn’t seen before. The first thing that caught his attention was just how big his forehead actually was. Deep creases rested on its surface, looking like they were carved there permanently. The receding hairline didn’t help either, making it look even bigger than he’d initially seen it to be. Mr. Leroy’s hair wasn’t grey yet, but the light brown wisps of hair were probably much darker back in his day. It was actually pretty funny to think about; a young Mr. Leroy.

After another uncomfortable split second of looking at each other, Jason dropped his gaze away and turned towards the class. They were still glancing over at him as he made his way down the middle aisle and slump into his seat. Taking his hands out of his pockets he placed his bag next to him.

He kept his head slightly bowed and his shoulders were tense due to the sensation of some of his classmates still watching. Looking up hesitantly, his gaze challenged those still peering. He met their stares with an irritated look. To his satisfaction, they broke eye contact or turned back around shortly after and returned to their work.

Jason sat there for another moment and adjusted his seating position so he’d be more comfy before pulling up the clunky textbook and laying it quietly on his desk. Even though he’d seen it before he still liked studying the cover. It was dark blue with a large picture of a crab in the corner. His eyes ghosted over it’s claws that were stretched open, soaking in every detail. Every bump that lined the inner pinscher and all of the shiny streaks that ran across it. He memorized them all. The crabs back was covered with dark red and orange splatters with no pattern. Although it was nice, Jason never knew what it had to do with English class. Most of the books were like that. The math textbook had a gecko with a pale belly on it and the history book had a random forest with fog. Someone else might’ve thought the composition of the covers were somehow symbolically important and pretty, and although he couldn’t really disagree, he still thought it was stupid.

He got ready to open it and stopped, realizing he had no idea what pages to turn to. Ah shoot… He discreetly looked up and around, clenching his fists. Shoot… his mind repeated. It wasn’t like he could just ask someone now, considering he’d just shot most of his classmates a nasty look not two minutes ago. Plus it’d look so dumb if he tried to ask for help now. 

He swallowed. Most everyone in front of him was hunched over, reading. Mr. Leroy had gone and sat down at his desk, tapping away as his computer. Marking me late I assume. Jason noticed the guy to his left out of the corner of his eye. The kid’s book was turned slightly towards him. 

He’s going to think I’m like a creep or something… Jason looked at him a moment longer before leaning over at a painfully slow pace. He could almost barely read the number in the corner of the page. Keeping his body straight, he glanced around in different places so it wouldn’t be so obvious what he was doing. He barely saw some kind of number shape when the guy shifted in his seat, tossing his leg over his knee and pulled the book more towards himself. The small number in the corner was jerked away at a distance too far away to read from where Jason sat. There’d be no way of seeing it now without completely leaning all the way over like a weirdo.

Asshole, are you kidding me? Jason swore to himself. He knew the kid didn’t even notice him but still. Returning back to his original position he bit his lip and looked around again. No one else had their textbooks conveniently facing his way and he wasn’t about to lean forward to read what page the girl in front of him was on. That’d be even more creepy.

“Thirty-two,” a low voice whispered on the other side of him.

Jason’s head snapped over as soon as he heard someone talk. His eyes landed on a kid he knew by name but barely spoke to. 

Drew Porter. He had smooth dark brown skin and black eyes that held interest in their depths. The sides of his head were shaved near his temples and his hair faded up into tight twisting curls. He looked at Jason with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“You’re wondering what page, right?”

“Uh…,” Jason kept his voice low. “...yea.” He blinked, taken slightly aback. He couldn’t think of one time he’d talked to his guy. 

“Thirty-two,” Drew repeated. 

When Jason held his gaze for a few moments Drew make a ‘tsk’ noise. He pushed the book towards the end of his desk and pointed at the number in the corner as if to prove it. 

Jason leaned over. There, typed in bold was the number 32.

“Oh… alright,” He drew himself back to how he was sitting, feeling a bit awkward. He wasn’t sure why though. It’s not like he did anything wrong. Maybe it was the fact that someone noticed him struggling? He didn’t know. Picking up the hard cover Jason flipped a chunk of pages and let them fall to either side of the spine. 

32… He told himself, leafing through the glossy pages, reading the numbers in his mind. 220… 198… 175- Jesus how far ahead did I skip to…? After another moment of backtracking his way through the book he stopped on the correct page and leaned back in his chair. He started reading at the top.

Well half reading really. To say he couldn’t care less about ‘The Nine Writing Strategies of Great Literature’ was grossly understated. 

Suddenly the same unanticipated voice reached his ears and quickly interrupted his thoughts, “So that’s it?”

Jason quickly looked over again at the unexpected question to find that Drew was still staring at him. “What?” Jason asked, confused. The fuck do you want? The thought passed by his mind as quickly as it came. 

“ ‘Alright’? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

He was completely lost for words. That’s all I’m gonna say about what? Irritation quickly started to bubble within him. “What?” Jason repeated again, still not catching on. 

“You’re not going to say thank you?” Drew stared at him with almost an unreadable expression while his voice, however quite, held pins and needles.

Huh? “Thanks for what?” 

He knew within a split second after that question that Drew must’ve thought Jason was the most stupid person on the entire planet. But he still didn’t understand and it was pissing him off. 

“You’re not gonna thank me for telling you the page number?”

Jason sat there staring at him, his mouth slightly agape. You’re annoying me because I didn’t say ‘thanks’? More irritation replaced the confusion that was swirling in his gut. He decided not to say anything and closed his mouth, scowling. “Leave me alone asshole.” he hissed quietly and quickly turned back in his chair.

He expected Drew to have some kind of comeback for that but when met with silence a smug kind of satisfaction trumped his other emotions. Maybe mind your own business next time, Jason thought. 

His eyes landed back down on his book and he hunched over to start reading where he’d left off (which wasn’t much into the first paragraph). It didn’t take him long to feel a prickly drill-like sensation all over his body. He knew Drew was still staring at him.

Quit it, Jason’s thoughts snapped aggressively. Whether it was at Drew or at himself for noticing and letting it bother him he couldn’t figure out in the moment. He knew Drew couldn’t hear what was going on in his head. Maybe if he ignored it he’d stop. Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still watching the page. He hadn’t read a single line. He could barely make out Drew’s face in the corner of his eye, looking at him. What the hell, why are you still staring at me… But he couldn’t find it in him to ask out loud.

Instead, he decided to bring his hands up and take hold of his hood, pulling it over his head. The sides of the hood blocked his view from his classmate’s gaze.

It wasn’t like he expected Drew to suddenly stop staring after that. But still, the ghostly feeling of spiders crawling over him lessened a bit. 

Around the room, a couple sounds of people sniffling and flipping pages arose every few minutes. That and Mr. Leroy's footsteps. 

He’d gotten up and was slowly walking around the class looking down on everyone like a hawk as passed by. 

Within minutes he was walking down Jason’s aisle, giving tiny nods of approval while seeing what page his students were on. His eyes traveled down the line before getting to Jason, who was still blankly looking at page 32.

Jason heard a faint sigh before catching Mr. Leroy walk his way, skipping to check the two students sitting in front of him.

Jesus Christ now what, he kept his head bowed, pretending as if he did notice his teacher stop right next to him. He stayed that way for a while, re-reading the same line for what felt like forever.

“Jason,” his teacher's voice finally broke the silence.

Go away please. Jason didn’t respond. He hated being called out in front of the class. 

“Ahem,” Mr. Leroy cleared his throat and bent over slightly. “Jason,” he repeated. His voice was low and edged with aggravation. The slow sound of creaking chairs and shuffling let Jason know his classmates in front were turned and looking back at them. The invisible spiders started crawling again over him again except it felt like there were hundreds of them.

After another moment he tore his gaze away from his book and met his teacher’s eyes for a brief moment. Jason didn’t say anything when he hesitantly met his teacher’s look. Mr. Leroy’s smile was tight. “I believe I’ve told you before…” After a brief second he murmured in a growling kind of way, “No hoods.”

A hundred thoughts were swirling around in Jason’s mind in that moment. Most of them were ‘Fuck you’s and ‘Fuck off’s. It was like he was the only one Mr. Leroy ever decided to point out. Forcing a lump down his throat, Jason took hold of his hood and tugged it back exposing his brown hair again. 

Satisfied, Mr. Leroy stood straight again and turned, folding his hands behind his back. Under his desk Jason popped both his middle fingers up, glaring daggers at his teacher’s back as he made his way towards the front of the class. This earned a quiet chuckle from Drew.


	3. Three

Why did school always feel like it lasted longer than it actually was? Probably cause it sucked and all the sucky things in life tended to last forever. That was Jason’s philosophy anyway. English had always bored him and was one of his least favorite classes. So, naturally and of course, he would be so lucky to get stuck with it first thing in the morning. His second period was Biology. He guessed it was alright aside from the fact it was super boring and Erika was in it with him. She sat on the opposite end of the room so luckily it was rare he’d get trapped in a never-ending conversation. Nothing really compared to the boring and torturous time he had third period though- Drama class.

he sat bored up high in the booth inside the auditorium. Looking through the glass, rows of dark seats lead up towards a small stage where an older woman was standing with her hands on her waist. 

He scratched the part above his lip, waiting for her command. The only good thing about his third-period class was being apart of stage crew. It was OK. Working the lights was surprisingly kind of cool sometimes but when he wasn’t doing that he just sat like he was with nothing to do. 

The woman was squinting up into a blaring spotlight positioned high above her. The pale light poured over her making her face look sheet white and her purple cardigan light violet. 

She’s gonna go blind, Jason rested his face on his fist and leaned on the dashboard in front of him. A map of buttons and switches spread out before him, blinking and waiting. He only knew maybe of what a quarter of all of the controls did. The rest was useless. Well, to him at least.

The lady on the stage murmured something to herself before shouting, “Dim them a little!”

“Ok!” he called back. Because of the small confined space and thick glass, his voice was muted but still loud enough that she heard him. Looking down Jason found a dial surrounded by tick marks near the center of the control board. Curling his fingers around it he gently turned it and looked up to watch the bright spotlight fade a little the more he rotated.

The women watched for a moment before nodding and holding her hand up in a ‘stop’ position, “Ok that’s good.” 

Jason tossed her a lazy thumbs up and sat back in his chair. Propping his feet up he watched his teacher turn away and start calling a few names of his other classmates. Everyone else got to wait backstage before Ms. Sherlock addressed them to run over scenes they’d be rehearsing that day. But because he was appointed the lucky job as the lights operator it was his job to ‘reset’ the equipment and re-adjust the lights at the start of every class.

Ms. Sherlock disappeared behind the small curtains scrunched against the sides of the stage but her loud voice still carried all the way to the box. 

Theatre wasn’t Jason first choice as an elective. Or his second. Or third.

Or fourth.

His exact words when seeing it printed on his schedule at the beginning of the year had been, “Are you fucking with me?”

Of course, Matthew and Derrick were laughing their asses off when they saw DRAMA- THIRD PERIOD typed in all caps and bolded on his itinerary. 

“Is there something you wanna tell us Jason,” Matt snickered, elbowing him in the ribs. “Anything you’d like to share?”

“Fuck off,” Jason grumbled still staring in disbelief at his schedule and giving his friend a shove. “I don’t even get it, how could this have happened? I asked for psychology, ceramics or music production.”

“Those classes must’ve been full by the time you handed your form in.” Derrick leaned against his locker grinning like an idiot. “You know, a day later than it was due.”

“Yea now you get to be a gay little fairy and sing songs and wear costumes with the rest of your gay little friends,” Matt sneered and poked him in the ribs again. “In the theatre.”

“Shut it!” Jason snapped and pushed his friend off. A few people walking by looked over for a second as they kept going. This fucking sucks.

“Are you going to get it changed?”

“I’m gonna try!” Jason said angrily at Derrick who had asked the question. 

“Well you better hurry,” Matt crossed his arms over his chest with a shit-eating grin on his face. “They’re not allowing people to change unless it’s an emergency or something.”

Jason had practically run to the office after that and asked in a not-so-polite-way to be placed in a different class- any class. It didn’t even matter. At this point he’d be willing to sign up for another biology elective or even something stupid like a piano course. But the lady behind the desk had said that all schedules were final and no changes could be made.

“No exceptions,” he remembered her saying, igniting a fire throughout his body.

“Listen, you don’t underst-” he started hastily, only to be interrupted with the previous statement again.

“No exceptions,” she said more forcefully. He could tell he was starting to annoy her but he didn’t care. She was an older lady, maybe in her sixties. Her name tag read ‘Mrs. Shmidheiser’ and her black glasses sat on the tip of her long nose. Behind her frames, her eyebrows were dipping down into a frown. 

“No, please, look, you- you gotta change this, I won’t be able to take this class,” he leaned forward, his palms flat on her desk. There was no freaking way this was going to happen. He would stand here all day if he had to. 

She uttered a couple words of irritation to herself and looked at him again, “Is there someone you’re avoiding who’s in that class Mr. Lakes?”

“Huh? Well… no, I mean, not really.”

“Are you afraid the other kids in drama will bully you?”

“What? No! Are you kidding? Have you seen those guys! They-”

“Are you worried this class will be too hard for you?” she stared at him without blinking with a dull expression that matched the tone of her voice.

“No! It’s not that! I could ace that class easy! It’s-”

“Then there is no valid reason for you to be placed in another class,” she leaned back and picked up a pencil before scribbling some notes down on a form, clearly dismissing him.

He could hear his blood pumping through his veins. “I can’t take this class!”

Mrs. Shmidheiser sighed again and placed her pencil down. Folding her bony hands on top of her desk and shifting in her seat a little, she looked up at his red face again and spoke with an edge of irritation. “And why is that, Mr. Lakes?” 

“Because it’s stupid!” God, he sounded like a five-year-old, but could she really not see the problem here or was she just completely senseless? “Do you know what it would look like if I walked into a theatre class?”

She shrugged.

This dusty bitch. “It’s just weird! Drama has never done any favors for anyone. Also people would think I’m gay or something, and it’s disgusting!” he spat. He leaned forward, pressing his palms down harder on her desk. “I’m not taking this class.”

Things didn’t go well for him after that statement.

She stood from her chair so abruptly and at such an alarming rate that for a split second he almost wished he could retract his comment. He stormed out after ten seconds of the old hag yelling at him for what a ‘disrespectful person’ he was. It was all bullshit.

That’s how he found himself in the booth above the auditorium. Being forced into Drama was one thing, but at least no one could force him to actually play a part or participate. 

That’s were stage-crew came in (and thank God for it). At the end of the day it was basically an escape from the spotlight and a safe-haven for people who either have stage fright or were forced into being in a drama production. He could also maintain an easy A (like he predicted) thanks to Ms. Sherlock’s philosophy that “The people in stage-crew play a role that’s just an important as the performers.” He got to do practically nothing and get a good grade. 

He still totally hated the fact he was put in the class to begin with, but even he had to admit, he hit the jackpot when it came to being a part of the backstage.

“Crew A, stand on the right, Crew B, on the left.” Ms. Sherlock’s voice distracted him from his thoughts and brought him back to reality. Kicking his feet off the switchboard, he leaned forward to see a group of about 25 kids splitting off in different directions. Most of them had thick scripts in their hands.

As they moved, Ms. Sherlock continued to give directions. “When you’re in your right places turn to page five and we’ll go from there. Remember what we talked about yesterday, if your classmates cannot hear you, then the audience will most definitely not be able to hear you.”

Jason watched the kids shuffle past one another until two distinct groups were formed on either side of the teacher, flipping through their packets. To think that someone had to memorize basically that entire thing just to know when they come on, or what they had to say or do was mind-numbing to him. Yea, sure it was impressive he supposed, but still. 

The production they were rehearsing was The Little Mermaid. Was it overdone? Yes. Stupid? Yes. Require a ton of work? Yes. 

It was still early in the year so neither of the groups had gotten too far into it yet. Jason had been handed a script too, “Just in case you want to follow along dear,” Ms. Sherlock had smiled and handed him a copy. He thanked her and tossed it in his locker later that day (where it remained). 

“Alright...Caleb and Abby,” Ms. Sherlock beckoned two kids from Crew A to step forward. As they did she took them by the shoulders and maneuvered them around the stage a little bit until they were in a spot she liked. “Ok…” she said quietly to herself, liking their arrangement, “And Dean and Rachel.” 

Jason watched as both of them stepped forward and got moved around. He didn’t know everyone in his class yet. 

Ok well, to be honest, he didn’t really bother to get to know anyone but by spending an hour a day with these people he could at least recognize all of them even if he didn’t know their name. The Dean kid from Crew B had a thin face and black eyes. His eyebrows were thick like his hair, and his skin looked pretty smooth even at a distance. He also had a nose piercing on the right nostril (which actually looked kind of neat). He had been cast as Flounder in the play. Abby from Crew A and Rachel from B generally looked the same. Not a lot of distinguishing features when trying to describe them. Abby had glasses but that was about it. Both of them were pale (unless it was the effect of the spotlight), had long brown hair, and were kind of tall. Rachel would probably be a better Ariel, just cause she didn’t have glasses. It had been a long time since Jason had seen the movie but from what he could remember the mermaid didn’t wear frames.

And then... there was Caleb. 

Caleb Shen.

The one person Jason actually kind of knew, and he wished he didn’t. He wished he could stay as far as possible. At first, Caleb actually didn’t seem like a loser. He had been wearing a nice jacket and heavy boots the first time they’d met. He wasn’t loud or obnoxious or one of those drama freaks. Caleb was actually… pretty cool. At least he seemed so. Even his voice didn’t get on Jason’s nerves like it usually does with other people. 

As weird as it might’ve sounded, Jason found himself maybe wanting to talk to him. They even had pretty surprising and decent conversations and from what Jason could tell, Caleb was pretty well liked by…. well, everyone in the class. Not that that mattered, being liked by the theatre group really wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. All someone had to do was act like they gave a shit about the production and the whole room would turn into one happy family and they’d all want to be your friend.

It made him sick.

But Caleb wasn’t really like that. He didn’t say he liked the play just to kiss his classmate’s ass. He didn’t pretend to be apart of something just for the sake of being able to say he was. He just… was. And they ended up just… talking. Like normal. Jason really couldn’t believe it at the time, he was actually able to have a normal conversation with a presumed freak in drama class. But of course, like everyone had ever told him, all good things must come to an end.

Jason found out on the thirteenth day. 

Caleb was a fag.


	4. Four

It was rare that Jason ever really found himself drawn to someone. Especially someone who wasn’t in a magazine or TV show. His friends didn’t really get into all that mushy crap like who you had a crush on, or who you thought was ‘cute’ (Jason never liked that word). But once in a while it’d come up, attached to some broad generalized question like, “What do you think of Trina?” or “How bout her?” and nod to some chick walking by. It was usually understood that the person asking was the one interested but sometimes it was more like a game. Like ‘Who Would You Do?’. 

“Samantha?” Matt shoveled a spoonful of dry rice into his mouth, looking past Jason’s head to a girl with short blonde hair who was talking loudly with her friends. Too obnoxious, Jason thought immediately but kept his mouth shut.

Derrick made a face. “No.”

“Really?! I thought you’d be all over her! What is it? Her hair?”

Biting into a slice of poorly made pizza, Derrick shook his head. “I mean, she’s alright, but her her face is just kind of… meh.”

Fifth period was lunch time and the cafeteria was crowded with kids wrapped up in their conversations. At a table near the edge of the room, Jason sat with Matt, Derrick, Simon (a short skinny kid with glasses), Taylor (a blonde kid with tan skin) and Erin. She had long bleached hair and was one of the few lady friends Jason had. She was actually really cool for being a chick. She didn’t roll her eyes when they made fart noises or flipped each other off like the rest of the girls in the school. She actually flipped them right back. It was great.

“What about you?” Matt directed his gaze over to Simon. 

He shrugged and said after swallowing, “I guess.” Taking another bite of food, he tried to talk while chewing, “May’e if she shu’ up for a ‘econd.” 

Erin laughed as he continued, “Plush-” Simon swallowed. “I think she’s a lesbian anyway so it’d be extra difficult and I wouldn’t feel like putting in that kind of time.”

Surprised, Jason looked over his shoulder at her, watching for a moment as she cracked up at a lame joke her friend told. 

Pretty much everyone at the table had a poorly made slice of pizza on their tray with a side of rice. The only one who’d dared to try the schools mystery-meat-cheesesteaks was Taylor. “Mk I’ve got one,” Derrick leaned in, causing the rest of them to scoot in closer too, except Erin. She didn’t play the game much since all the people in question were girls. He paused for a second, looking at each one individually. “... Jackie.”

An image of Jackie Parker wearing nothing flashed in Jason’s mind and he immediately grimaced, a sour taste actually forming in her mouth. As if suddenly tasting poison, everyone recoiled back with uproars of “Jesus Christ!” “Hell no!” and “No, gross.” Everyone but Taylor.

“Remember when she crapped her pants in fourth grade?” Erin looked at them individually. “I can’t be the only one who remembers that. Then she tried to blame the smell on me and say that I was the one who did it but everyone knew she was lying.” A few murmurs of “oh yeaaa”s and “Jesus I forgot about that!” went around the table. The way that they’d actually met Erin was through playing this game. Matt had been the one to point her out the previous year. He wasn’t too discreet about it either. Almost immediately she picked up on the fact they were talking about her and walked towards them (which made them shit their pants. No girl who ever heard them ever had the balls to actually confront them about it). Expecting to be told off they were shocked when she turned out to be pretty cool and instead of being all offended that they were judging her (though ‘judging’ seemed like a harsh word to Jason), she actually nodded to another chick and said: “What about her?”. The other girls didn’t like her cause they thought she was bitchy and judgemental, Jason thought she was hilarious and good at making funny comments about people. There was a difference. Erin picked at the thick layer of cheese glued on her slice. “She’s still mad that I called her out for talking shit behind my back.”

“I don’t know…” Taylor shrugged and took a particular interest in looking at his rice instead of the rest of them. “I don’t think she’s too bad.”

They all shook their heads and gave him a severe look. “No, she smells like-”

“Dog-”

“Fish-”

“Shit-”

Jason Matt and Simon all looked at each other and snickered at each other's answers. She’s also one of the most stupid people I’ve ever met… but Jason decided to keep that line to himself. Shoveling his spoon into his rice and lifting it towards his mouth, he glanced around the cafeteria, looking for their next subject. This wasn’t his favorite game, mostly cause you run out of people eventually and there really wasn’t anyone he ever said ‘yes’ to, but it was still funny.

His eyes fell on a tall dark skinned girl who was throwing away her tray not to far away. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she was wearing a blue and white striped shirt with pale long jeans. He kept watching her as she made her way towards the trash can, an empty carton of milk balancing on the surface of the tray. Tossing it in and turning, their eyes met for a quick second before she continued on her way before flashing a quick friendly smile.

As she went back to her table Jason lowered his spoon, “What about Laila? She’s pretty nice.” 

Matt turned, following Jason’s gaze and caught sight of her just as she sat down, disappearing amongst the crowd of people. “Eh…” he murmured after a moment of thoughtful silence. “...maybe.”

“Ya she’s not so bad…” Simon craned his neck to get a better look at her as Matt turned back around. “She has really big boobs.”

Suddenly out of nowhere, Erin decided to try to get a look too before blurting nonchalantly, “They’re soft,” and took a swig of her chocolate milk.

It took a few seconds for Jason to actually hear what she said but when he did his mind paused (and he wasn’t the only one). Wait what? 

Erin finished drinking only to find after putting it down that everyone at the table was staring at her with alarm. “What?”

“‘They’re soft’?” Simon quoted, a look of humerus disbelief on his face.

“Well, … ya?”

For some reason, Jason couldn’t stop himself from letting out loud line of laughter, quickly covering his mouth as Erin looked at him with a dangerous look. “WHAT?”

Matt leaned forward, a kind of confused but determined look on his face, “How do you know her tits are soft?”

“Cause they’re tits!”

“Are all boobs soft?” Taylor leaned forward curiously.

She gave him a look and shrugged, “I mean… ya I guess?” Taylor nodded and leaned back as if to say ‘nice’. Seizing the once in a lifetime opportunity to ask a girl about breasts without getting smacked, Simon and Matt immediately started asking a few more questions like, “Even tiny ones? They’re soft too?” “In the locker room, who has the biggest ones?” “Who has the smallest ones?” “Is it true that for girls, the color of your lips are the color of the nipples?” 

“...why do you guys want to kno-”

“Just answer us!”

While they questioned with interested gleams in their eyes, interrupting Erin every few seconds as she’d just begin to answer, for some reason Jason found himself not really paying attention.  
Instead, his gaze traveled past Matt to another person who’d walked up to the trash can to throw away their garbage. He was wearing the same brown jacket with all the pockets and black skinny jeans that fit onto his slim legs. Caleb usually sat on the opposite end of the lunch room, farthest away from the trash cans so it took a little extra time for him to get all the way up to the front. Jason watched, not even really aware that he was looking, as Caleb dumped his tray in the trash. Suddenly as if sensing he was being watched, Caleb’s head turned and their eyes locked for a brief moment.

Sitting up straighter due to the unexpectancy of having his gaze returned, Jason felt himself stiffen ever so slightly. Immediately the thought, “Stop looking at me…” but at the same time couldn’t find himself to break away from watching. The noise in the cafeteria seemed to get louder and Matt and Simon’s questions suddenly grew in volume.

“Can you move your breasts on command? Like how a dude can move his abs?”

They kept staring.

“Can you carry stuff in them?”

Jason found himself getting frantically annoyed. “Just look away already you fucking freak.”

“Do you like one better than the other?”

Caleb started to turn away.

“How do you unhook a bra? It’s like the most complicated thing I’ve ever tried to do.”

He turned around completely, finally breaking their gaze and Jason felt a weird sense of irritation settle in his gut. However childish, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking, “Ya that’s right, walk away.” Caleb strode out of the cafeteria before turning down the hallway disappearing from view. The whole thing must’ve lasted only five seconds but to him, it felt like so much longer. To Jason’s quick relief after coming back to his senses, no else at the table had noticed the strange moment he’d just had. His attention was brought back fully as Matt chewed on his rice and asked something stupid, like if girls name their boobs or something.

Scooping up some rice and chewing, Jason he listened as Erin tried to answer all the questions they’d just thrown at her with the flame of irritation slowly starting to diminish. With some pauses in between answers to think, she finally concluded that yes, even tiny boobs are soft, Maya G. had the biggest ones, Kiara S. had the smallest ones, she had no idea that the lip-nipple theory was even a thing, yes she’d seen some girls move their breasts on command, you can carry your phone, car keys, and other accessories in them, yes she liked the right one cause it’s slightly bigger, just twist the back until something gives and no, Matt, most girls don’t name their tits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this kinda ends randomly, can't really think of anything else and it's the end of the school year now so nothing else is really due regarding this either xD Thanks for reading up to this point, I really appreciate it! I would love feedback and honest constructive criticism ^^ thank you very much, have a nice day!


End file.
